


Fucking Hormones

by lisachan



Series: Tales of the Summer Palace [22]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Multi, Orgy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:54:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23284357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lisachan/pseuds/lisachan
Summary: Ever since he found out about his pregnancy, Celes is experiencing urges and needs he only barely felt before.
Relationships: Leste/Regis/Shannen/Celes/Langley/Yande/Rufus, Shannen/Celes/Langley
Series: Tales of the Summer Palace [22]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/414045
Kudos: 4
Collections: COW-T - the Clash Of the Writing Titans, COW-Tverse & Polyverso





	Fucking Hormones

**Author's Note:**

> I SWORE I WOULD'VE GIVEN ALL THOSE HOTTIES TO MY BB AND THIS IS HOW I DID IT managing to remain perfectly in canon, as I do.
> 
> Written for this year's COWT #10, W7, M1B, which wanted a NSFW story about COWTverse characters.

The changes in his body are becoming more evident by the day. He himself has no idea how to deal with that other than trying to ignore it – any other option seems impractical, at the moment.

Sure, he’s suffering. Together with the pain coming from physically feeling his own body _shift_ to make room for the twins as they grow in his belly, comes the emotional pain caused by both the premises and the consequences of this thing that’s happening. He’s still not over how his body betrayed him and he hasn’t been able to worked out how, magically speaking or physiologically speaking, this could’ve happened without him noticing. And he’s worried about what comes next, about how the actual giving birth thing is going to work out, what other things are going to change in him over the next few months, not to mention that he has literally no idea how it’s gonna be once the babies are actually here.

But seriously. What the fuck can he do about this?

He tried thinking about having an abortion. He did. Shamelessly, he did. He went through his options, listed the rituals that could’ve helped him. He did all that alone because he didn’t wanna involve Langley nor Shannen in it, or anyone else, for that matter, he didn’t want to _scare_ them, yes, scare them into thinking he could be capable of something like that – but oh, was he tempted to do it. Declare war against his body like his body had declared war against him. I’ll get rid of these two little seeds you treacherously planted in me, and what will you do then? Wait for the next occasion to pollinate me? And what if I abstain for the rest of my life? Would a life of celibacy stop this from ever happening again?

Then he took some time to reflect upon it. If the Seer’s magic was able to transform him back, although partially, into a woman to get him pregnant, what else could it do if he defied it? If he challenged it to do its worst, what would that worst amount to?

The thought scared him. He’s been cause of enough mayhem in the polyverse already, he doesn’t wanna cause more. And-- if he thinks about seeing the Seers dynasty end with him, if he refuses to ever have children, the thought bothers him. He always knew he wanted to be male – but is he prepared for the consequences of refusing something so important as an offspring because of the pain of nine months of dysphoria?

So the fact remains. He did things, in his youth, that had consequences. Then his body did other things, without his authorization, and those had consequences too. And these consequences he cannot solve and can barely face. Therefore, he’s powerless. For the first time in his life he’s truly powerless and this won’t change, no matter how much he thinks about this.

He resolves not to think about it, most of the times. It’s the easiest way to sail through this. He counts the days towards the end of this damned pregnancy, hoping it’ll be swift and smooth, and for the rest of the time he tries to keep himself occupied, tries to keep his mind busy.

But damn, it’s hard at night. When he starts overthinking and insomnia sets in. In the silent darkness, his thought spread out of himself in purple spirals, and he follows them, and he falls into them, and there’s no escaping them, until, in his half-asleep, exhausted state, he turns them into nightmares, and starts being haunted by them.

That’s usually when he wakes up again, groggy and battling a skull-splitting headache, like he’s doing now.

He searches around the bed with both hands, trying to find Langley and Shannen. He’s not sure he wants anything from them except feeling them there, by his side – sometimes it helps. It helps to know he’s not alone, that no matter what happens these two people who love him will be with him always. 

They’re not there, though, which is uncommon. Celes frowns and finally opens his eyes in the darkness, only to see that, though Langley isn’t in the room, Shannen is. He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, he’s holding himself up straight with one hand pressed against the mattress and he’s looking at him, his expression unreadable, as always.

“Hi,” he says. Shannen’s rarely first to talk, and therefore Celes has to frown a little more. “You okay?”

“As much as I can be…” Celes groans and sits up, holding a hand against his forehead as the movement causes him a little nausea. “Why are you awake?”

“Mmh,” Shannen answers enigmatically, “Why are you?”

“Bad dream,” Celes minimizes. “Where’s Langley?”

“He’s gone to get them,” he says, and for a second Celes’ heart plunges to the bottom of his stomach, and he gasps for her. He’s gone to get _who_? Are the twins already here? How long did he sleep for?

“Who…” Celes swallows, “Who are you talking about?”

“Come in boys, don’t crowd the door,” Langley’s chipper voice distracts him as he shepherds four people inside the room. It’s dark enough to make it hard for Celes too see them, but his magic can’t be blinded by the darkness, and as soon as the four Wizards of Tanit are inside the room it resonates with them, singing like a distant bell in the back of his mind.

He gasps again. “Lang…?” he said in a strangled voice, “What are you doing?”

Langley finally turns to look at him. Celes can’t ignore the little smirk he exchanges with Shannen, and he can’t help feeling a little frightened by it. “I brought you a gift, my Precious,” he says, “It seems to me you’re most deserving of it.”

Celes lets his eyes wander over the men standing behind Langley. They’re all smiling, though in different ways, and they seem perfectly at ease in the current situation, which is preposterous. Regis is standing with his arms loosely crossed over his chest, wearing nothing but dark green leather pants that should have been tied around his hips but the top layer of which instead hangs open, showing the trail of dark hair leading the eyes down his abdomen and towards his crotch. Rufus is standing right next to him, tall and powerful, the light glisten of his pale skin mesmerizing. He’s wearing a creamy white cloth, draped around his hips like a short skirt, and he’s curling his lips in an amused grin, his deep blue eyes studying him intently. Leste is leaning against the door a few inches from him, smirking like a kid, his short brown hair ruffled on top of his head. He’s wearing nothing but his underpants, tight around the bulge already visible at his crotch, and he can’t keep his hands still. Finally, on Langley’s left side, Yande. Only his silver-ish hair are really distinguishable in the darkness, the rest of him, immense and overpowering, blending in with the night like some sort of dream-like residue. From where he’s sitting, Celes can’t see if he’s wearing anything at all.

He swallows once again. “Lang…” he repeats, confusedly, “I don’t see your point.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Langley smiles and gets closer to him, climbing on the bed and then moving on all fours towards him, “I think-- no, we both think you’ve been through too much, my love. We both decided you should be rewarded for all you’re putting up with these days.”

“Besides, it’s obvious you’re not feeling good,” Shannen adds with a shrug, “You need the right medicine.”

“And we have the right doctors,” Langley grins, “The best in the polyverse.”

“Guys, you can’t be serious,” Celes says, his voice trembling lightly. 

“And yet we are,” Langley smirks, leaving a small kiss on Celes’ lips and then sitting cross-legged by his side. “Come on, boys, get closer.”

The wizards take a step closer all at the same time, and Celes, weirded out, grabs the blanket and tries to cover himself, swallowing. “This makes no sense,” he mutters, “You-- You know the effect they have on me.”

“And we already told you we’re fine with it,” Shannen says, leaning into him, nosing his way up and down his neck. It’s so strange for him to take initiative, sexually or otherwise, that Celes can scarcely believe it. And yet he feels him – his scent, so characteristic, bringing the echo of the ocean and distant stars, and the warmth of his pale skin, and the tip of that tiny, pointy nose making its way up to his jaw, quickly followed by the softness of his lips. “But you’re still holding back. Why?”

“Because I’m--” Celes’ breath gets caught up in the back of his throat as he feels Langley’s hands land on his skin and explore it underneath his night gown. They’re hot and a little rough, and Langley smells like fire, and desire, and he’s daring almost in an uncomfortable way, especially with four strangers looking at them – even though Celes isn’t sure he could truly call strangers four people with whom he’s risked to fall into some sort of intimacy over the last few weeks more times than he cares to admit.

“You’re what, my beloved?” Langley mewls behind his ear, his hand slipping between his legs, brushing against the soft, smooth skin of his inner thigh, up to his cock, that he finds already half-erected and ready to fall between his fingers, “Hard? That I can feel.”

“I’m pregnant!” Celes yells as an ultimate defense.

That’s when Leste snickers, approaching the bed. “You have no idea,” the young man says, leaning in and getting much too close for comfort, “How many pregnant people I’ve fucked. Not even all of them female. The wonders you can find on certain Lands…”

“Oh, Gods,” Celes tries to move back, or away, in any way, but Langley and Shannen keep him where he is, trapped between their bodies.

Leste grins again and closes the distance between them, leaving the softest of kisses at the corner of his mouth. “Calm down,” he whispers on his skin, his magic warm and captivating, swirling around him, “Do you remember my words? The ones I whispered in the wind when you ran from us on Nocturnia? My body wants you, my lips are thirsty for you…”

Celes whimpers, squeezing his eyes shut and his thighs too. “You… you also said that your magic was calling for mine. That even though reason told you not to come searching for me…” he opens his eyes again, panting a little through his parted lips, “…your spirit was chanting my name in a prayer.”

“And I still stand by those words,” the man says, finally pressing his lips against Celes’. They’re soft, and his skin is smooth, and he smells like incense and old books, and Celes whimpers and, in that whimper, he parts his lips and lets Leste’s tongue slip into his own mouth, captivating him in a wet, slow kiss.

“Let yourself go, my beautiful,” Langley whispers in Celes’ ears, his hand moving slowly around his erection, pumping it hard, “Take what you want. What you deserve.”

“But I--” Celes gasps as he feels Leste’s lips trail wetly down his neck, and a new set of hands approaching him from behind. They’re big and powerful and the smell they bring forth is strong and musky, it’s the scent of the trees in a dark forest, the scent of Northern wood and moss-covered stones. “…Yande,” he moans, resting back against his chest.

“That’s me, precious little thing,” the man says, his voice deep and lush, filled with vibrant undertones, “How much were you craving this?”

Celes bites at his bottom lip, holding back his answer. He searches for his partners with his eyes and he finds only Shannen, as Langley’s covered by Leste’s body, and he almost expects him to be annoyed, or at least bothered, but Shanne’s smiling encouragingly, and something terribly similar to a dam breaks inside Celes’ body, and he lets everything out. “Yes,” he whimpers urgently, parting his legs and welcoming Leste against himself as he reaches back to Yande with an arm, “I craved it.”

“I know you did,” Yande wraps his powerful arms around his lithe waist, and they’re muscled and strong and Celes feels trapped and he wants to feel trapped, “Can you name one other thing you wanted?”

Celes bites at his bottom lip again, this time out of embarrassment. “Ah,” Rufus’ velvety voice says, carrying a smile Celes can’t see but can definitely imagine, “You’re blushing like a vestal virgin. How adorable.” The man comes closer and licks a wet line from Celes’ shoulder to his ear, where he keeps whispering. “Come on, you can say it. We’re all eager to hear it.”

Celes pants again, moving uncontrollably against the mass of bodies intertwining around him. Rufus’ skin smells like sand and the sea, his magic vibrates like the magic hidden between the valves of his seashell jewel. He surrenders, he gives in. “I wanted to fuck,” he whimpers, and the moment he says the word he can feel the magic around him surge and getting hotter, “I wanted to fuck you.”

There’s a wave washing over him, right after that, and soon he can feel something hard, something huge, pressed shamelessly against his side. It’s Rufus’ cock, enormous and hard as stone, throbbing gently against his skin, leaving trace of pre-cum on it as it moves. “We’re gonna fill you up, little one, like you wanted,” he almost growls, fierce like the ocean, “And you’re gonna love it.”

“Yes!” Celes lets out an uncontrollable yell, searching blindly for that glorious cock with his hand. He wraps his fingers around it, or a least he tries, because it’s bigger than he thought it would be and his hand can’t close properly around its girth. “Oh, Gods… oh, Gods!” he whimpers, moving his hand up and down, desperately, basking in the warmth radiating from Rufus’ skin.

“Now now,” another voice says, the deeper, more confident voice belonging to Regis. Who comes closer, tipping the magic balance once again, leaving Celes breathless and confused. “This little boy’s growing needy. This little boy’s touching things no one allowed him to touch.”

“Shit, I like the sound of that,” Langley whispers excitedly, somewhere on Celes’ left. Celes hears Shannen chuckle uncharacteristically, but gives it no second thought, because the feelings running up and down his body are making him numb to anything that isn’t arousal. His senses heightened, he tends towards these six men like sunflowers do with the brightest stars they follow, and when Regis finally comes closer – smelling like rich fabrics and wealth, smelling like luxury would smell if it had body – Celes practically throws himself at him, gasping.

“Touch me,” he begs, his body on the verge of breaking down, “Do something to me, please.”

“I’ll do something to you, for sure,” the man smiles wickedly. He produces a rope, the Gods know from where, and he starts tying it around Celes’ wrists.

He would usually buck like a wild horse, he would kicks and punch and bite and he would do everything in his power to free himself, but tonight he doesn’t want freedom. He wants to be constrained, he wants to be grounded, he wants to be tied to these men and he wants to be at their mercy. His blood is boiling and his body, that he stopped recognizing as his own the moment he found it invaded by two alien beings he had no part in conceiving, is screaming at him to accept him again. It’s still me, it’s saying, despite what’s inside, I’m still the same body you’ve been carrying since you were born. I’m agitated by the same instinct, I crave for the same tastes, I’ve got the same hungers, I have the same needs. Find me. Feel me. Recognize me.

Celes lets Regis tie his wrists together and then tie him to the bed. He parts his legs, then, and throws his head back as he feels a dozen hands start exploring his body. “Do-- Do what you want to me,” he whispers wearily, wantonly, his hips rolling as he searches for a friendly touch that would ease the tension in his loins.

He keeps writhing, moving against them, moving between them, and they’re around him, they’re everywhere, and as they touch him and kiss him he stops feeling them as separate entities, they all melt into one powerful being, entirely composed of magic, pounding and throbbing and ready to explode.

“Inside…” Celes gasps, lacking air and any kind of restraint, “I want it… I want it inside!”

And he’s thinking of nothing, he’s only wanting. And he can’t recognize the body pressing against him, he can0t recognize the shape of the cock driving through his opening, breaching him, filling him, making him arch his back in pleasure. Could be Langley’s, the body moving against him has his impetus, could be Shannen, the touches covering him are cold and yet passionate, could be Regis, the roughness of the thrusts seem to indicate, could be Leste because the body’s moving with incomparable ease and experience, could be Yande, because the body is strong, it keeps making the whole bed bounce every single time it thrusts inside him, could be Rufus, because the mass stretching him open is so fucking huge it threatens to break him every time it passes through his opening.

Could be all of them, could be none of them. At the core of it there’s magic more ancient than any of them, and more powerful.

And Celes has no other choice than letting it all in and allow it to reclaim him.

*

He wakes up with a little yell, covered in sweat, panting heavily. His cock, pushing underneath his drenched night gown, clearly shows that, though he just unload the most powerful orgasm he had in months, it might be already ready for more. He whimpers, annoyed and frustrated, and passes a hand over his face, combing his damp fringe away from his forehead.

Langley stretches like a big cat, yawns and wakes up, blinking rapidly and then searching for him with sleepy eyes. “Cee…?” he asks confusedly, “Why are you awake?”

“I had a dream,” Celes answers grumpily.

Langley blinks another couple times and then his eyes inevitable fall on Celes’ lap, and he chuckles. “I can see that. Nice one?”

“Can’t say.”

“Oh, Gods,” Shannen groans, his voice stating clearly that he has been awake for a while already, “The Wizards again. Right?”

“I hate this.”

“I told you already and I’ll say it again,” Langley sighs, draping himself on top of him despite the sweat and the come, actually probably even enjoying the mess a little bit, “I don’t understand why you fret so much about it. It’s just dreams. You’re not doing anything wrong.”

Celes whines. “I hate that I can’t control it.”

“There are many things in life that are not controllable,” Shannen shrugs.

“I can think of a few that are also very pleasant,” Langley grins, leaning in to place the smallest kiss on the head of his still half-half cock, pressing upwards towards the wet and translucent fabric of his gown. 

“Ugh,” Shannen makes a face and looks away, “Please, he’s covered in filth.”

“That never stopped me before.”

“Unfortunately, I know.”

“What should stop you…” Celes says grimly, “Is that I’ve just confessed to you that I’m having wet dreams about other people.”

“Oh my, love, you _really_ gotta let this go,” Langley sighs and then groans, sitting up only to wrap his arms around Celes and pull him down on the bed, “I did when you first told us.”

“I didn’t even need to let it go,” Shannen shrugs, “I never held onto anything to begin with.”

Celes groans, covering his face with both hands. There’s something upsetting about how fine they both are with this thing, and how they refuse to acknowledge the fact that Celes hates this because it’s connected more to the pregnancy than it is to the attractiveness of the wizards.

But his body is awake, now, there’s no putting it back to sleep until it had what it wants.

And Langley’s hand’s already venturing up his skirt.

And Celes whines first, then moans, and finally parts his legs, though he’s still frowning.

Fucking hormones.


End file.
